


To Pain, to Paradise...

by helloitshaley



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, and highly sexual, if you're upset by stuff like that please don't read it!!!!, this is highly violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26145502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitshaley/pseuds/helloitshaley
Summary: No one hits on Morticia in front of Gomez and lives to tell the tale, especially not when the two of them enjoy luring a victim so much. This story piggybacks a bit off of To Manslaughter, showing a much, much darker side of the Addams Family.
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Comments: 14
Kudos: 45





	To Pain, to Paradise...

Gomez Addams was not a nervous man by nature. Excitable, sure, but never nervous. Little could rock him. Blood, guts, viscera, brain matter, it was all child’s play. Even that one time he was under scrutiny of the FBI he didn’t even break a sweat. This situation, however, left his heart pounding a strange rhythm. Not only was he nervous for the first time ever, he was downright uncomfortable.

Morticia, however, seemed so self assured that he felt almost foolish. If she could laugh in the face of this prospect why couldn’t he? She certainly had more on the line than he did, yet she was as cool and composed as ever. He envied her, he admired her, but most of all he wanted to make her proud. Proud of the man she was calling her fiance.

“You’re sweating,” Morticia said with a smirk. She sauntered across the dim motel room to pull his handkerchief out of his pocket. “This is hardly your first kill, my darling.” 

“Fist kill, no. First voyeuristic endeavor, however…” 

Morticia let out a laugh, shaking her head in amusement. “Is that what we’re calling this? Do you plan to be yanking off in the closet?”

“Please, Tish,” he sighed, swiping the handkerchief across his forehead. “This plan of yours, I just don’t know.”

Morticia frowned, crossing her arms across the plunging neckline of her tight dress. “Say the word and we’ll leave right now. But I guarantee the reward will be so sweet that you’ll regret leaving, not that I would ever hold it against you, my love.”

“I just cannot stand the idea of you in the arms of another man,” he admitted, the words alone making his stomach churn with anxiety. 

Morticia scoffed, rolling her dark eyes at him. “It's merely a ruse, you know that. This man had the audacity to not only offend you but hit on me right in front of you. Don’t you want your revenge?” She leaned down over him, gripping the arms of the chair he was currently occupying. “Don’t you want the immense satisfaction of slitting his throat? Just think about it, Gomez, all that hot blood gushing out, drenching the cheap motel sheets, seeping through to the mattress, permanently marking this room with his death.” Her hand slid down, pale fingers dancing across the bulge starting to form in his lap. “You’re half hard thinking about it, imagine how you’ll feel once the deed is done.”

Gomez did have to admit that the mere thought made him want to ravage her right then and there. He licked his suddenly dry lips, feeling far better about what they were about to embark on. “Just promise me one thing,” he whispered, his throat tight.

“Anything, mon sauvage,” Morticia whispered, her intense gaze locked on his.

“Don’t kiss him,” Gomez said. He wanted his request to sound like more of a command, but his emotions failed him and it came out as a plea.

Morticia smirked as she reached up to pat his cheek. “I won’t kiss him. Gomez, my darling, no parts of him will be inside of me, I promise. He will touch me, however. He may kiss my neck, he may slide his hand down my panties even… you’ll just have to stay put until the time is right. Just know I’ll be thinking of you the entire time.”

Gomez could only nod. Killing this son of a bitch would be worth the pure agony he would have to sit through. The mark in question was a scumball in every sense of the word. A man with far too much money to sit alone in a motel bar, who likely had a wife and kids at home and a respectable business. His disappearance would probably even make the news, but it would be his own fault for seeking out not only a coke dealer but a prostitute as well in a rather seedy part of town.

“Now, help me out of my dress, would you?” Morticia asked, turning so he could urge down the zipper. Unable to help himself, Gomez pressed his lips to the expanse of her white back, reveling in the cool feeling of her skin on his hot lips.

“You couldn’t have worn a bra for this?” he asked as she stepped out of the fabric pooled around her feet. She kicked it to the side as she turned to face him and only shrugged as a response. “I cannot stand that he will be seeing so much of you. All of you, perhaps.”

“Use that,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Take that aggression out on him. How dare he try to fuck what's yours?”

“And you are mine, aren’t you?” he asked, knowing the answer already. Theirs was not a love one could deny.

“Of course I am,” Morticia said confidently. “Now, into the closet with you, he’ll be here any second.” 

With one lingering kiss, Gomez stepped into the tiny closet beside the ugly brown bed that was to be the scene of the crime. He made sure he had a good enough view from between the wood slats and settled in. No sooner was he safely hidden than there was an urgent knock at the door. He watched as Morticia made her way over, hips swaying in a way worthy of a catwalk as she went. Silently he slid his jacket from his shoulders, already feeling far too hot. 

“Wow,” was the man’s response to Morticia’s warm welcome. “Let's get to it then.” 

Gomez rolled his eyes. Where was the romance? Of course the fucking was fun, but it was even more fun to stretch it out, to truly savor one another. Sex wasn’t fun if it was one sided, and it was clear this man only cared for his own satisfaction. Morticia was little more than a sock in a teenage boy’s room to this man, and that made Gomez’s blood boil more than he thought it would. If he was going to try and fuck his fiance, he should at least do it properly! Had it been Gomez out there he would be the one on his knees, his face buried between Morticia’s porcelain thighs before she could even think of what was happening.

The man discarded his suit jacket and shirt as Morticia yanked his belt off with a snap. Gomez wanted to scoff at the sight of his tighty whities. What grown man wore such undergarments? He looked like a twelve year old boy. He probably purchased them in a plastic pack from a store that also sold produce.

“I have to say,” the man said, snapping Gomez back to attention, “you’ve got the best tits I’ve ever seen.”

Gomez bit into his fist to keep from growling. Morticia’s back was to him, but he just knew she was smirking from the compliment, vulgar as it was. “Thank you,” she responded, taking a step back toward the bed. “But are you just going to stare at them?”

Gomez clenched his fists at his sides as the man unceremoniously grabbed Morticia’s breasts in a way that she could not have found enjoyable. It was like he was playing with two stress balls, it was reprehensible. Then it only got worse as he leaned forward, his slimy lips landing on her neck. He pushed her back so they fell against the filthy comforter and Gomez noticed he still had socks on. 

“You like that?” he had the nerve to mutter in her ear.

“Let me show you how much,” she said without missing a beat. Gomez had to give Morticia credit for being an incredible actress. She reached down and ripped his horrible underwear off, tossing them in a purposeful move toward the closet. Gomez held his breath as Morticia took the man’s mediocre cock in her hand and began stroking it.

Soon, he had to keep telling himself. He wouldn’t be watching the love of his life fondling another man for too much longer. Another five minutes, tops. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his favorite knife. A gift from his mother on his 18th birthday, with an ivory handle and stainless blade that was eager to slice though flesh. 

Gomez was pulled back to the present by a new movement catching his eye. The man was sliding his hand down Morticia’s stomach, his hairy fingers tugging at the waistband of her black lace panties. She let him pull them off and Gomez almost lost it completely as her legs fell open for a strange, disgusting man. But still he waited. The man wasn’t suitably distracted enough, he would hear Gomez coming. 

But then he began touching her and Gomez had enough. He wrapped his fist around the door handle, slowly urging it open as his fingers dared to dip lower. Morticia kept her promise to him, however, and quickly snapped her legs shut.

“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out,” the man grumbled as Gomez silently slid out of the closet. “I came up here to fuck, and that is what I’m going to do.”

“Is it?” Morticia snarled, sitting up slightly.

“It is. So lay back and take it, bit-” he couldn’t even get the full vile sentence out of his mouth before Gomez pounced. He grabbed a fist full of gelled hair and yanked his head back before dragging his knife across his neck. Blood splattered across Morticia, as well as the bed and part of the carpet.

The man gurgled, his hands flailing in a failed attempt to fight his attacker off. Gomez shoved him face down on the bed before jamming the knife into his back. The victim let out one last gurgle before falling silent and still. Even though the man was dead, Gomez found he was still tremendously angry. He stabbed the man again and again, reveling in the feeling of the blade passing through skin and tissue, scraping bone every now and again. It was euphoric. 

“You’ve certainly made your point,” Morticia said softly after letting him have his fun.

He turned toward Morticia, the sight of her alabaster skin painted red driving him mad with desire. He plunged the knife in one last time, leaving it there for the time being as he undressed completely and joined Morticia beside the corpse on the bed.

“My darling,” he breathed, cupping her cheek with his blood soaked hand. “Are you alright?”

“Much better now that I can stop pretending to be attracted to such a disgusting creature,” she said, her eyebrow raising with amusement. She drug her hand across a pillow, leaving a faint red smudge behind. “His dick was so strange. Small. Pathetic. Slightly lumpy.”

Gomez smiled smugly. “When you’ve had the best…”

“I intend to have the best right now,” she said, reaching forward to grasp his hard erection. “Much better,” she sighed.

“Cara mia,” he sighed. He wrapped his arms around her body, urging her back against the soaked sheets, his lips pressing hard against hers. The taste of salt and copper danced across his tongue as he kissed Morticia deeply in a way that said, you are mine and mine alone. And she kissed him back with equal ardor, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Too bad he isn’t just a little bit alive,” Morticia said as she positioned Gomez against her. “I think it would be rather funny for him to watch us fuck, covered in his blood as the life drains from his eyes. The last thing he sees being something he could never have.”

Gomez sunk into her with a loud groan. “You saying that almost makes me want to try this again.”

She laughed through a moan, her hips rocking in time with his. “Almost?”

“I don’t know if I would survive another time,” he said, teeth scraping across her soaking neck. He rocked forward, their chests pressed together, all the blood smearing between them like a work of art. It was a good thing they planned to set the room on fire before leaving, since this amount of blood would be impossible to clean up.

“What if the roles were reversed?” Morticia asked, her nails raking down his back. “You seduce some horrible woman while I watch from the closet.” 

Gomez shook his head, face hidden in her neck. “I couldn’t. Not even as a ruse. Not even as simple as what you did tonight.”

“Oh, Gomez,” she said with a slight pout. “I hope you don’t think that was easy for me. I did it for you. Every single movement was for your benefit. I do know how you love to kill with a vigor.” 

He lifted his head, looking into her eyes. A slow smile slid across his face as his thrusts quickened. “I love you, Morticia. More than anything.”

“And I love you more than anything,” she responded in an instant, pulling him into a deep kiss. “Never doubt that for a second.”

“Never.” 

Morticia let out a loud moan that was Gomez’s complete undoing, with Morticia trailing quickly behind. They fell into a sticky, blood-soaked haze, taking a moment to just lay in each other’s arms as their heart rates returned to normal. Gomez trailed lazy kisses up Morticia’s bloody arms, too exhausted to do much else.

“I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” was the first thing he said as the post sex haze began to wain.

Morticia chuckled darkly. “You’ll feel much better than him.”

Gomez turned to look at his handiwork. Their vigorous love making had jostled the corpse so he was hanging half off the bed, his blood spilling into the already stained carpet. Gomez shoved him the rest of the way off, his body landing with a dull thunk. He looked at the corpse with a smug smile before turning back to his beloved.

“Allow me to help you clean up, querida mia. You have blood in some hard to reach places.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for sticking around through the filth! Comments are always appreciated! I'm on Tumblr @helloitshaley if anyone wants to stop by!


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